


Sweetheart

by AnOddSock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Sam Winchester, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Feminization, Fishnets, Frottage, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Switch Dean Winchester, Top Castiel, Top Dean Winchester, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 11:02:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17466326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnOddSock/pseuds/AnOddSock
Summary: Sam finds out how long he can go being denied release, and how easy — or hard — it can be to come without the help of another person. Cas won’t let him down though, Cas has it all under control.





	Sweetheart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [troubleseeker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubleseeker/gifts).
  * Inspired by [problem seeking behaviour](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16649341) by [troubleseeker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubleseeker/pseuds/troubleseeker). 



> I had this idea floating around and I started writing it on Christmas Eve when I needed a distraction (what better way to distract yourself than with two needy boys one in control Dom?) and the more I wrote the more I realised it reminded me of a fic Troubleseeker wrote during kinktober. And by the time I got to the _end_ I realised it could pretty much be set in the same verse. And then I remembered Trouble’s birthday was coming up, and what better thing to surprise her with than a dirty, dom filled fic?! I even asked her part way through writing what other kinks I could use, and she said daddy kink, and at that point I didn’t even know what this fic would become or when it would be posted!
> 
> So Happy Birthday, I hope I didn’t butcher up your AU too much ;).
> 
> Also thanks to AzrielRose for spitballing ideas for a tier of daddy!doms, this isn’t exactly what we talked about but it certainly helped shape some ideas I used here.

Cas’s room was understatedly elegant, or at least that’s what he’d told Sam the first time he’d come in here. The walls were a deep plum and the furnishings were large but sleek. It would’ve been a sensual place without question, except Cas had filled the place with clutter, books and magazines, clothes strewn about. It was lived in and comfortable.

It only made it so much more surprising when Cas could turn on his persona and pull Sam to pieces like he hadn't ever meant to do anything else.

Like tonight, stressed out and wrung dry, Sam was pliable as putty in Cas's hands. Not even a challenge. Cas lowered his voice and he yearned towards it with his soul - it was easy.

And it was hard, giving in was so hard, as hard as his cock in fact, but he didn't have anything left in him to fight back.

So he succumbed. Quick as a wave, it overtook him.

He was already halfway out of his mind when Dean walked in. Cas had been reclined leisurely in an armchair, watching him writhe on the large four poster bed, and got up to greet Dean with a kiss.

A kiss and a steady pair of hands removing his clothes.

“Having fun are we?” Dean asked with a smile, eyebrows lifting in amusement when Sam caught his eye. “Can’t believe you started without me.”

“Our sweetheart has had a very long week, he needed to get out of his head, to get out of his misery.”

Sam whined. He felt pretty miserable right now, but in a totally different way. He ached. God how he ached, and they’d barely begun.

“I suppose I can forgive that. Might need you to make it up to me though.”

“Want to be fucked?” Cas leaned in, biting at Dean’s ear. “Want to go over there and be fucked in reach of your brother?”

“Yeah,” Dean breathed.

Cas extricated Dean of the last of his clothes, but kept his own on. Loose pants, a ratty old tee that hung from his frame but accentuated his lean curves. He paused by the table and picked up the remote for the insertable toy in Sam’s ass, turning it up another level.

Sam arched his hips rolling them upwards until only his shoulders and the balls of his feet were left touching the bed and tried to breathe, panting desperately.

“Please, please, Cas please.” He didn't even know what he was begging for.

Cas pushed Dean up against the end of the bed, between the wooden posts that framed it, and pressed in behind him.

“Please what, sweetheart?”

Sam gave up the fight and slumped back onto the mattress. “Touch… touch me, let me?”

“Not yet.”

“How long has been like this?” Dean asked, reaching out a hand to trail a finger along Sam’s cheek bone. Sam leaned into the touch, practically purring.

The sound of a loud smack filled the room and Dean jolted.

“He’s not to be touched. He’s got to do this on his own.”

“Alright,” Dean said, a scowl and smirk warring across his face. “No touching Sam, got it, any other rules beside the usual?”

The usual being not coming until Cas gave them permission. A good rule but a long, long rule. Sam rolled half way onto his side, letting his face drag along the soft material of the bed while he tried to calm down.

“Call him sweetheart, nothing else. Don’t engage with him too much though, I want us to focus on each other, he’s just here to watch and look pretty. Aren’t you sweetheart?”

He nodded. He wasn’t himself right now - he was their sweetheart, their not-so-little dancer, their entertainment. He got hot just thinking about them seeing him like this, but he couldn’t help it, it turned him on too much. More-so, even, than the deep pulsing vibrations in his ass. And that was saying a lot.

“Going to be good sweetheart, going to watch as I take care of Dean?”

He nodded again and shifted, turning his body into the bed, letting his dick drag along the covers. It wasn't nearly enough but it felt great all the same.

“No, no, look at me.” Cas clicked his fingers and Sam raised his eyes. “Stay on your back, come on, you can do it.”

With a sigh Sam shifted onto his back again, his poor sad dick wagging in empty air.

He watched Cas run his hands all over Dean's body, frame his ribs and caress across his chest. His mouth busy trailing kisses around Dean's jaw. Dean was smiling a soft small thing, one hand holding the back of Cas's arm, the other steadied on the bed post.

“You taste so good,” Cas said between kisses. “Wish you'd got here sooner.”

“Mmm, like making you wait.”

Sam was jealous. So jealous. He wanted to be touched too. He imagined it, hands holding him down, a heavy palm pressed to his throat or a kiss pressed behind his ear. He shivered just thinking about it.

Cas curled a hand around Dean's thigh and pulled his legs apart while Dean made pleased noises in the back of his throat.

And Sam was sad because he wanted to touch _them._ Please them, urge them, beg with his body.

“Well, maybe I'll make you wait too,” Cas murmured.

“Like this? That's fine, you can worship me all day for all I care.”

Sam moaned. No, not all day. If he was allowed to come it might not be until after they were finished. Please not all day.

“You think I'm worshipping you, do you?”

“Seems like it.”

Cas pinched both of Dean's nipples between his fingers, pulled them out, and Dean squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth with a hiss.

“I'd say it's more that I'm making you mine, wouldn't you agree?”

“Fuck yeah, sure, yes.” Dean panted until Cas let go, and then sank forward onto the bed.

“Please,” Sam whispered again. He was leaking pre-come, sticky little globs covering his thighs and his stomach. He was desperate, and he wanted to touch himself. He didn't have to get off, didn't even have to touch his dick just a release somewhere, light the fuse to let out the fire.

“Hush,” Cas said, deep boom of a voice cutting right to Sam's core. He breathed through his nose and went back to trying to remember to keep his hands still, curling them into the sheets.

“We're going to take this nice and slow,” Cas said.

And he wasn't lying.

Almost half an hour later he was still massaging and teasing and touching Dean. Sam had tears in his eyes. He'd been hard for _well_ over half an hour and nothing he did let him touch his dick.

It seemed like Cas wasn't paying attention to him but every time his hands drifted too close to his stomach or his crotch he was reprimanded with stern words.

He just wanted to please them, please Cas, so badly that he obeyed without thinking. Only moans and whimpers betraying his resolve. No matter how much he ground his ass against the mattress it didn’t help, and nothing was allowed to touch his cock.

Dean was steadily rolling his hips back, gyrating in tiny dips and circles, eyes closed in bliss. His pleased moans and breathy exhales filled the quiet bedroom.

“So good, so good, Cas.”

Cas pressed the heel of his palm against Dean’s semi-hard cock and whispered in his ear. Sam couldn’t hear, but he was mesmerised by how slowly Dean’s dick had filled out. They’d inched toward it together, Dean and Cas, so slowly with touches and dirty words. No rush.

Sam wished they’d rush.

“Sweetheart?”

Sam’s eyes snapped up and got lost in the caring look that Cas gave him.

“Sweetheart, are you ready for a break?”

“Please?”

“Go freshen up a little, change out the toys and put on the things I laid out for you.”

Sam struggled to move until his ass stopped vibrating. He went a little limp at the loss of sensation, and took a few steadying breaths. His legs shook slightly but he made it to his feet.

“Thank you, daddy,” he said, throwing Cas a long, shy look.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Wow, he’s so far in he barely even blushed,” Dean remarked quietly.

Sam felt a small swell of pride because he was, he was falling into it so easily this time. So ready to let himself be taken care of.

The sight that awaited him in the bathroom made him groan inwardly, though. He splashed water on his face and ran his hands through his hair a couple of times before he could bring himself to touch the clothes. Or the other things.

He squeezed out and removed the old toy, probably nearing the end of its battery life and lubed up and inserted the identical new one. The brief in-between time where he was empty set his heart pounding. Relief, and anticipation, and then the sweet press as the new toy settled heavy and cool inside him. The precursor to fun as it warmed to his body temperature.

Without the constant assault inside him, running _through_ him and lighting up his prostate, it was easier to think and he needed to think to figure out how to squeeze every inch of his body into the disquietingly small clothes. He’d calmed down a little by the time he was done, feeling more balanced, more in control.

But his cock was straining against the confines of the tight shorts he’d forced it into. So much so he couldn’t even get the zipper all the way up.

He jiggled around trying to feel comfortable. Black fishnet stockings rubbing weirdly against the inside of his thighs. Scruffy black boots seemed heavy on his feet after the long time barefoot, and the cut-off cropped graphic tee that barely covered his chest felt somehow more exposing than being naked.

Maybe it was because of the soft silky pink bra he’d dutifully fastened on underneath, it peeked out every time he lifted his arms, and the top was slashed across the neck letting the flowery straps show teasingly over his shoulders as the cropped top slipped around his form.

The denim shorts were the real difficulty though. Made for someone smaller, cut off high above the knees, so short that they barely covered his ass. Faded denim with patches so thin they were threadbare and pockets hanging below the frayed hem. And so tight they strained across his crotch, bulging outwards with the thick swollen length of his cock.

He tried not to think about it as he smeared neon pink lipstick onto his lips, and lined his eyes with thick navy blue eyeliner. He restlessly pumped his hips forward, revelling at the restricted feeling of pressure where he hadn’t been allowed to touch. The little thrill of something touching his cock, even if it wasn’t going to do much.

He was caught off guard completely when the weighted toy started vibrating again. He cried out and clutched the sink.

“Come on sweetheart, come on out for us.”

He couldn’t ignore that voice, no matter how much he thought he’d cooled down.

Surveying his reflection he looked like he might be going to a rave, or spring break pool party, or fashion photo shoot from the eighties. He pushed his hair back, letting the strands fall where they would, and stepped tentatively out the bathroom.

Cas had laid Dean down on the bed, bracketing Dean's body with his own. They both looked up as he walked in and Dean whistled low.

“Show us that ass, sweetheart,” he said with a fucked out sound to his voice.

Sam turned on his heel and spread his hands, stomach muscles clenching to contain his excitement as his sweet spot was buzzed at maddeningly.

Coming full circle he took a tilting step toward the bed but stopped short when Cas held up a hand and gave him a stern look.

He felt wounded. Didn't they want him? He'd dressed up so nicely.

“Dance for us,” Cas commanded.

He whined.

“Sweetheart, do as you're told.”

“Cas-”

“Hmm?”

“Daddy?”

“Better. Yes, sweetheart?”

“Please, with you, can I…” it was exceedingly difficult to think as Cas upped the vibrations another level.

He jerked his hips in response and Cas made such a pleased noise and his lips curled up in a filthy smile that Sam liked, so he tried to start swaying.

“So pretty. Now you just enjoy yourself, do whatever you want but no touching what’s in your pants. That’s for later.”

He hummed in agreement and Dean leaned over to press play on the phone cradled on the bedside.

The guitar strum made him pause, it wasn’t rave music, it was one of Dean’s playlists. Rock, fresh and low, bass guitar and drums picked out the rhythm for him and he wiggled his hips to the beat.

They were laid sideways over the bed and Cas was sucking one of Dean’s nipples into his mouth, had a hand pressed between Dean’s thighs, and Dean was watching Sam with wide open eyes and a smile while he buried his hand in Cas’s hair.

Sam stopped moving, his breath catching at the sensuous sight.

“Sweetheart, dance for us,” Cas said, pulling off Dean’s nipple with a slurp, and without looking up.

So he did.

He moved to the end of the bed and the open floor space, running his hands up his body, lifting them through his hair and over his head. Dean wouldn’t take his eyes off Sam, and Cas looked up at every spare moment. Sam went bright red from being watched, his dick twitching in the tight confines of his outfit.

“Having fun?” Dean growled.

“Mmm, wanna be with you,” he whined. He was painfully aware of his erection, and being on display.

“Look good on your own. You look like dessert. I’m gonna eat you up,” Dean smooth talked back.

“Leave him be, no distracting the entertainment.”

Cas gripped Dean’s wrists with one hand and caught him up in a kiss that made Sam’s knees weak (or was that his prostate clamouring to be noticed?) and urged Sam to keep moving with one wag of his finger.

The music spilled out, and Sam gyrated as best he could, stuttering to a halt every time his movements shifted the denim delightfully, painfully roughly against the soft skin of his cock.

He was lost in the sight of the two of them kissing and rocking together, arching into the touch of one another and moving recklessly and with abandon. Dean was pinned beneath Cas but he wasn’t taking it lying down, he had a knee between Cas’s legs and used it for leverage to push up into Cas’s space and clawed at his back.

Cas’s t-shirt had been discarded but his pants were still there, and Sam tried to imagine the soft brushed fabric against his skin, and strong hands dancing over his body. Every move Cas made Sam wished it was on him, every reaction Dean had was never enough because it wasn’t _him._

As he swayed and turned to the music Sam caressed his own stomach with his hand and trailed the other one up his thigh, until he reached the hem of the shorts. Maybe just a little touch, a little feel, shift the pressure an inch in the other direction. It couldn’t hurt, could it?

He blinked and held his breath, hoping not to be noticed, half turned away from them.

“Sweetheart, are you misbehaving?”

He paused with his fingers slotted in the gap made by the unclosed zipper and ducked his head.

“Naughty, naughty,” Dean breathed, “don't want to make daddy mad.”

Sam moaned.

“Please, it’s too much. They’re so tight.” He turned to face them, showing the painful bulge and gripped the hem of the shorts like it might make Cas let him rip them off.

“Lace your fingers together behind your head, if you can’t keep them to yourself.”

“Daddy, I can, please don’t make me. I want to dance for you.”

“You can dance with your arms up, Sweetheart, it won’t stop you.”

Sam looked mournfully at his feet and slowly lifted his arms above his shoulders and clasped his hands at the back of his neck.

“Good girl, look so beautiful, keep moving.”

Sam brightened a little, knowing he’d done it right.

“Can I praise him?” Dean asked.

Cas kissed the bolt of his jaw, sucking the skin between his teeth while Dean gasped. “As long as you don’t get too distracted.”

“Sweetheart, you’ve never looked better. All that skin, those moves. Driving me wild over here.”

Sam doubted that, it had to be more Cas that was driving Dean to the edge. He was over here not even involved. Just a pretty thing in the corner.

“Giving us the best show, making me so hard.”

“I can attest to that, my boy and my sweetheart just don’t know what they do to each other.”

Sam liked that, Dean having his nickname too, and that they thought he was important, that he was part of making this night special.

He rolled his hips, and dipped his shoulder, whining softly at the ache in his pants.

The pattern of vibrations in his ass changed again for the first time in twenty minutes and he staggered at the altered sensation.

Cas smirked and went back to paying attention to Dean.

By the time Sam was almost stumbling on his feet, and his arms shook where he kept them hanging from his shoulders, he didn’t know how much time had passed. But he knew Cas hadn’t fucked Dean like he’d promised. They’d done nothing but drive each other wild, grinding up against each other and then pulling back at the last second.

He’d watched them with eagerness, as their own moans ratcheted his own arousal higher and higher. He’d performed for them while they ignored him as nothing but a pretty set decoration, something to set the mood, a masturbatory tool. He’d yearned for them to invite him over and include him, all the while getting lost in the beat of the music and the movement of his body.

“Sweetheart, we need to empty ourselves.”

Sam looked blearily across the room, leaning towards the voice instinctively.

“Huh?”

“You look perfect, I think we’ll use you nicely.”

Sam inhaled with a small gasp, the words sinking in.

“But you have to come first, you’ve got until the next song ends.”

Sam dropped his aching arms and uncurled his hands, but Cas tutted.

“No hands.”

Dean grinned behind Cas's back and pumped his hips into the air.

Sam whined and moved toward the bed, thinking maybe he could rub against one of them.

“You’re not allowed on the bed yet Sweetheart.”

“Plea-please? Why?” Sam cast wildly around the room and then moved to the wall, sliding up against it. But it wasn’t right, it wouldn’t work.

“I want you to put on a show, any way you like sweetheart, make it look good for us. Let go for me.”

Dean was singing along in the background and his voice was off-key but gravelly and perfect and Sam wanted to come with that sound in his eardrums. Wanted it so badly he thought his heart might burst before his cock got chance.

The chair was there and he lurched toward it. He gripped it, hard, and thrust his groin up to meet the firm cushion. Up against the chair back his cock couldn’t get much friction and he whined. A few steps around and he lowered himself to the arm rest, one knee on the seat and one foot on the floor. With a burning humiliation he rutted against it.

They watched him every second, and he had to close his eyes, but it felt so good. Firm and unrelenting but soft all at once, his cock was still trapped behind one too many layers of clothing which was good because the friction would’ve been too much, but it meant sensation was muted.

“Can’t, daddy, can’t.”

“Sweetheart, keep going, I’m not going to stop you.”

Dean kept singing, and Cas watched him with pride in his eyes, and Sam rubbed fervently against the chair, rocking and writhing, until he came with a shout.

His come spurted through the thin shorts dampening them in an instant and even came so forcefully some made it out the top and coated his stomach. He moaned and groaned as the last lot surged out and hung his head, exhausted.

“Did you come in your pants?” Cas asked, suddenly beside him with a hand brushing his hair back. “Did you make a big mess?”

“Yes,” he sobbed, crying as Cas cradled his face.

“Dirty. So eager too.”

He was wrung out and needy, and Cas’s touch was a spark of life he longed for.

It disappeared far too quickly.

“Bend over and let me put some come where it’s supposed to go, hmm?”

Through blurry eyes Sam watched mournfully as Cas stood back to let him undress himself, giving one small nod of approval. Cas had his cock in hand and stroked leisurely, palm slick and smooth as he pumped himself.

Sam quickly thrust the shorts down and over the boots, dropping them aside, and pulled the fishnets down as far as could without removing the shoes.

“Good, so good, so pretty like this. Let me fill you up sweetheart, how you should be.”

“Cas,” he moaned, little and lost.

“You’re doing great.”

He bent over the armrest, lifting his ass into the air, to the sound of smacking skin as Cas jacked himself faster. The vibrating egg came free at Cas’s careful insistence and just the very tip of his cock replaced it.

Sam expected thrusting, to be split open, but Cas slid in slow.

“So tight in here, can feel how you’re fluttering around me, too. Been waiting for this, haven’t you? Waiting for me.”

He filled Sam up as far as he could and then rutted slightly, using as little friction as possible and just letting Sam clench and cry out around his length as he spoke low and dirty behind him.

Sam couldn’t see him and he wouldn’t even touch Sam’s hips, his hands placed either side of Sam on the fabric of the chair, no contact with Sam at all except for where his cock was buried deep.

“Made for this, made to hold me, fit me so well. Look fucking beautiful when you dance, look filthy laid out for me. Love it, love you like this,” Cas said. A long litany of praises and curses, and every word spoken made Sam jolt, made him squeeze and huff with adoration and desperate need.

Before long, the rushing wet warmth of come filled him, and Sam cried out in a sound somewhere between delight and humiliation.

“Perfect,” Cas crooned. And Sam glowed. He’d done well, he’d been good.

“Dean next, okay?”

“Hey, Sweetheart. Ready for me?”

Sam nodded, and Cas was there to cup his face and wipe away his tears. Dean used him too, the exact same way, and Sam was getting too sensitive. He cried more, even as he longed for Dean to make use of him. It went quicker, as Sam bucked and clenched harder around Dean’s cock, and when Dean pulled out and come leaked through the space he’d left behind Sam sagged against the chair and closed his eyes.

Without his help, they got him undressed and onto the bed. They laid him on his stomach with his head at the end of the bed and spread his legs, then rested back against the headboard.

Sam tried to close his ankles, aware of what he must look like, sweaty, naked, a leaking hole all on display. But they held his legs apart and told him how pretty he looked, how perfect, how good he’d been.

And he dozed off like that, drifting away on their praise and admiration.

When he woke, he did so suddenly, and with the lurch of remembering how he’d been laid. He turned and Dean winked at him. “Good nap, Sammy?”

He nodded, suddenly more shy than he had been during the whole encounter. Dean beckoned him up the bed and he went willingly, shifting into the space next to Dean. Dean drew him next to his chest and slung a leg between Sam’s, resting a hand on Sam’s hip.

“Where’s Cas?”

“Here,” came the reply as Cas re-entered the room. “How do you feel?”

He thought about it as Cas slid into place beside him, bracketing him between them both. It was a little squashed but lovely, warm and weighty, skin touching him almost all the way up from his toes to his head.

“A little blurry,” he said after a minute.

“Everything still a bit out of focus?”

“Mmhmm.” He nodded in response.

“You went pretty deep man, it was awesome,” Dean said.

“I cried.”

“You did. That’s fine,” Cas reassured him.

They cuddled for a long time, and they talked around him until he was lucid enough to join in.

“I feel a bit gross,” he said eventually.

“Maybe time to move your sticky ass to the shower,” Dean agreed.

They pulled him up by his hands and he let them guide him into the bathroom. The smeared make-up caught his attention in the mirror and he groaned.

“Don’t like it?” Cas asked.

“It just doesn’t look like me.”

“That’s the whole point dumbass, to get you out of your head, remember?” Dean playfully clapped him around the back of the head and Cas smacked his hand away.

“No annoying him, he did great.”

Sam surged in for a kiss, grabbing Cas’s face in his hands and driving his tongue into his mouth.

When he came up for air he pulled them both into the shower, backing Cas up against the wall, his elbows either side of Cas’s head.

“Thank you,” he said, meaning it with all his heart. “Can I do something back for you sometime?”

“Of course.”

“Sappy when you come out of subspace, aren’t you?” Dean said with a fake mocking jibe, nudging Sam with his elbow.

“Cocky all day every day, aren’t you?” Sam retorted.

“‘Til the day I die.”

Cas threw Dean the soap, “Maybe you should help Sam out, and get him nice and clean.”

Dean leaned in and brushed his lips against Sam’s shoulder, lifting his hair aside to mouth at the back of his neck. “It would be my pleasure.”

Then he got down on his knees and began to work a lather across Sam’s lower body.

Sam hung his head and closed his eyes in pleasure until Cas tilted his chin up and they started kissing again. Using the wall to hold himself steady he let Dean wash him, and Cas kiss him, for as long as they wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and kudos make my world go round like a carousel! Much appreciated if you read this far, thank you.
> 
> Go read Troubles original idea (and basically everything else she's written...) if you like this you'll love that.


End file.
